The New Order
by SilverMooonshine
Summary: What will the world be like when Voldemort takes power? Will he go so far that he has to be stopped? VoldemortWins!AU with much OOCness.


**Written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition:  
** **Position:** Beater 1 for the Holyhead Harpies  
 **Prompts:  
** What would life be like a week after Voldemort rises to power?  
1\. (word) allegiance  
5\. (dialogue) "Who cares? We could be dead in a couple of hours."  
 **Word Count:** 996

 **Thanks to Lizzie for her beta'ing, inspiration and support!**

* * *

Life had changed nearly overnight when Voldemort rose to power just a week ago, thought Yaxley. Harry had fallen to the floor, dead, after losing a duel with Draco Malfoy earlier in the battle, and suddenly Voldemort was in charge.

His first act had been to build a stage in the ruins of Hogwarts from which to announce his rulings. His first ruling had been to proclaim himself King Voldemort. Each day he had added to his title, and now on the seventh day he ruled as King Voldemort: Dark Lord, Chief Death Eater, Muggle-slayer, Snake-charmer, lover of Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans and Better-than-Rodolphus-at-Wizard-Chess (which was a last-minute addition after a game that had lasted hours into the night).

Every hour he could be seen sprinting to the stage, his new golden robes billowing behind him, waving a piece of parchment above his head with a manic grin on his face. He would step out, and declare his new demands for the wizarding world.

Sure, the proclamations had started off reasonable. On Sunday it was made punishable by death for wizards to talk to Muggles, which caused a sticky end for some witches and wizards who found themselves forbidden from speaking to their husbands and wives. But Yaxley had not been concerned by this—he'd even carried out some of the executions himself—for he had no interest in associating with Muggles.

On Monday Voldemort announced that everyone must learn the words to a new Wizarding anthem, set to the tune of 'Twinkle Twinkle Little Star:'

 _Oh, our wonderful Dark Lord,  
_ _He had Harry Potter floored,  
_ _Now he is our brilliant king,  
_ _Rejoicing we all will sing,  
_ _Of our wonderful Dark Lord,  
_ _Who is also the best on the chess board._

Secretly, Yaxley was quite pleased by this. When he was younger he'd wanted to be an opera singer, and he knew he could have been quite good had he not become a Death Eater. During the war, there hadn't been much chance for singing, but now he had to sing the song at least three times a day and was receiving heaps of compliments for his stunning voice.

By Tuesday all Muggle clothing had been banned. This hadn't directly been a problem for Yaxley (who was so small he would have had to shop in the children's section of Muggle shops, and he wasn't about to do _that_ ) but it did mean he had to put up with Goyle, Sr. Goyle had a habit of wearing jeans under his robes, and he spent most of the next three days moaning about how his robes chaffed him. It was when Goyle hiked up his robed to show off the rash between his thighs that Yaxley had started to question the wisdom of their King.

On Wednesday there were no announcements—Wednesdays were to be days of rest, as Voldemort was tired. This had resulted in the execution of three secretaries who had tried to announce that there would be no announcements.

On Thursday, paranoia had clearly caught up with King Voldemort, who had ordered large batches of Veritaserum to be pumped into the water systems surrounding Hogsmeade. There was a huge influx in paperwork as people began filing for divorces, and Yaxley thanked God that he lived outside of Hogsmeade, especially when he heard about Friday's ruling.

"He has to be stopped!" cried Yaxley as he ran towards the makeshift stage on Friday morning. But he arrived at the edge of the stage a second too late to stop anything.

"I have an announcement for all of my loyal and worshipping followers," Voldemort cried gleefully. "I have realised in my great wisdom that people are still filling their lives with Muggle rubbish. So today, I am making the smoking of cigarettes illegal and punishable by death!" Below the crowd cheered (as they knew they would be killed if they didn't) and King Voldemort bared his teeth in what Yaxley assumed was supposed to be a smile. Yaxley fell to his knees, grasping the pack of cigarettes in his pocket like they were the only things keeping him alive.

Later that evening, Yaxley sat in a bar along with a few others he often went drinking with. Rabastan Lestrange and Crabbe were his oldest friends, while the rest were newer followers of the Dark Lord. It was like any other Friday night—except they weren't surrounded by their usual cloud of smoke.

"What are we going to do?" Yaxley wailed, throwing his hands in the air. "He's gone too far! I wish the Potter boy had killed him!"

"Shut up," Crabbe said, his voice low and his wand pointed at Yaxley's throat. "You could get us all killed talking like that."

"Who cares? We could be dead in a couple of hours. You know I can't go longer than half a day without a cigarette!"

Rabastan hit the table with his fist. "Then we'll sort this together. From this day forwards, our allegiance is no longer towards the king. We will be known as the Order of the Smokers, and we will win back our freedom to smoke!"

There was a great deal of hammering fist of the table as the new Order clapped each other on the back and ordered a round of whiskey to toast their alliance.

Later that night, Yaxley crept into Lord Voldemort's chambers, hitting his with the killing curse before King Voldemort: Dark Lord, Chief Death Eater, Muggle-slayer, Snake-charmer, lover of Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans and Better-than-Rodolphus-at-Wizard-Chess even had a chance to wake up.

In the morning, when the news broke, Yaxley was prepared to be executed. Instead, he was faced with hugs from jean-wearing wizards and kisses from wives who could now continue to lie to their husbands. Up and down the country, Death Eaters and Muggle-borns alike rejoiced as they raised their lighters to the Order of the Smokers and, finally, had the cigarettes they'd been dreaming of.


End file.
